Sunday, April 25, 2010

Today, Anzac Day, Australians and New Zealanders come together to remember and honour our soldiers who lost their lives at Gallipoli in defense of their families, their country, their ideals. The Anzac Requiem, written by Dr. Charles E W Bean, says what we all feel today.

The Anzac Requiem

On this day above all days we recall those who served in war and who did not return to receive the grateful thanks of the nation.

We remember those who still sleep where they were left - amid the holly scrub in the valleys and on the ridges of Gallipoli - on the rocky and terraced hills of Palestine - and in the lovely cemeteries of France.

We remember those who lie asleep in ground beneath the shimmering haze of the Libyan desert - at Bardia, Dema, Tobruk - and amid the mountain passes and olive groves of Greece and Crete, and the rugged, snow-capped hills of Lebanon and Syria.

We remember those who lie buried in the rank jungle of Malaya and Burma - in New Guinea - and in the distant isles of the Pacific.

We remember those who lie buried amid loving friends in our Motherland and in our own far North.

We remember those who lie in unknown resting places in almost every land, and those gallant men whose grave is the unending sea.

Especially do we remember those who died as prisoners of war remote from their homeland, and from the comforting presence of their kith and kin.

We think of those of our women's services who gave their lives in our own and foreign lands and at sea, and of those who proved to be, in much more than name, the sisters of our fighting men.

We recall, too, the staunch friends who fought beside our men on the first ANZAC Day - men of New Zealand who helped create the name of ANZAC.

We recall all those who gave their lives in the Royal Navy, the British Army, the Royal Air Force, the Merchant Service and in British Commonwealth and Allied Forces, and we think of those British men and women who fell, when, for the second time in history, their nation and its kindred stood alone against the overwhelming might of an oppressor; we think of every man and woman who in those crucial hours died so that the lights of freedom and humanity might continue to shine.

We think of those gallant men who died in Korea, Malaya, Borneo, Vietnam and in peacekeeping and peace enforcing commitments assisting to defend the Commonwealth, and other countries of the Free World, against a common enemy.

May these all rest proudly in the knowledge of their achievement, and may we and our successors in that heritage prove worthy of their sacrifice.

Friday, April 23, 2010

I didn't. I was reading about Kedleston Hall in Derbyshire and the article said the grounds had a ha-ha. A what? So, I clicked on the big W and read all about it. The above pic shows the ha-ha looking towards the house, while the photo below shows the uninterrupted view from the house. It is so-named because of the reaction of most people when happening upon one. One wouldn't be walking at night-time without a torch!

This from Wikipedia: "The Ha-ha is an expression in garden design that refers to a trench, the inner side of which is vertical and faced with stone,, with the outer face sloped and turfed, making the trench, in effect, a sunken fence or retaining wall. The ha-ha is designed not to interrupt the view from a garden, pleasure-ground, or park, and to be invisible until seen from close by."

Castle Ashby - looking over the Ha-haPhoto: R Neil Marshman

The ha-ha is designed to keep animals from entering the property around a building and can also be used to deter people from getting out; as in the following pics of two lunatic asylums (yep, that's what they were called once) that existed in Melbourne in the 19th and 20th century. The ha-ha enabled the patients to see the outside world.

The main building and surrounding grounds of the Kew Asylum (later known as Willsmere) were sold by the government in the 1980s and it is now the site of the exclusive Willsmere Apartments. Many of the ha-ha walls have been repaired and remain intact on the property.

Monday, April 19, 2010

Artists took up their brushes after the eruption of Mt Tambora in 1815 as the high levels of ash in the atmosphere caused spectacular sunsets. The yellow haze was the prime feature in many of Turner's paintings following the eruption.

A similar phenomenon was seen after Krakatoa erupted in 1883. William Ashcroft painted several and made thousands of coloured sketches of the red sunsets around the world after the explosion.

William Ashcroft 'On the Banks of the River Thames' 1883

The pall of darkness inspired poet Lord Byron to write 'Darkness' the year after Tambora. Below is an excerpt from the poem. The writing of this poem also occurred only months after the ending of his marriage.

Friday, April 9, 2010

"Kookaburra Sits on the Old Gum Tree" was written by Margaret Sinclair in 1932 and children today still sing the song in school. I remember singing it as a 'Round', where a second group comes in after the first line.

Monday, April 5, 2010

One for the girls. I had a bee in my bonnet to change a few things around. I moved furniture; even the very heavy, old Ronisch piano; it hadn't been moved for nearly 11 years and I was amazed (I mean horrified!) at the intricate nests that moths make!

The image above is of 'Rosebud', a gift from Mrs. McIlhiney who lived next door in the 50s. She visited Scotland annually and brought this little Scottish highland dancer back especially for me. I called her Rosebud because the pink box she came in said 'Rosebud'. The Rosebud Doll Company was a British firm in the 1950s, taken over by Mattel in 1966. The dolls are now a collectors' item.

We were always supervised when handling the duck; its wings move, the head swivels and the horn comes out of his mouth. My grandchildren were supervised too; that's why it's still 'as new'.